


A Sunday in June, or: What the Fuck Does Freud Know?

by arroways



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 17:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14815469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arroways/pseuds/arroways
Summary: Ben Solo has a revelation regarding a particular Sunday in June.From a prompt fill on Tumblr.





	A Sunday in June, or: What the Fuck Does Freud Know?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [qiras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qiras/gifts).



> darlingelizabeth asked: you know, i wanted to ask this on anon so the people wouldn't Know, but oh well. the people probably already Know anyway. reylo + 21- daddy kink?

“You know what day it is?”

Rey shrugs her shoulders and shoves a bite of pancake in her mouth. She feels the melted chocolate chips smear across her chin, but doesn’t go to clean them up.

“It’s Father’s Day.” Ben Solo stands in front of the kitchen stove, spatula in hand, staring off into the distance, out the window of their shared one-bedroom Camden flat.

“Are you going to call him?” Rey asks around a mouthful of pancake.

“Well,” he checks his watch, “It’s four in the morning at Rikers. Maybe later.”

Rey senses his unease. She changes the subject, mentioning a play down at the Globe. Maybe they can go down to the market that afternoon? Walk along the Thames? She approaches him by the stove, and he kisses her, licking at the chocolate around her mouth.

“Hey,” she swats his arm playfully, “I was saving that for later.”

* * *

They end up back on the white linen sheets of their bed, the French doors of their bedroom open wide, sunlight and a breeze streaming in through the windows.

Rey loves when she can tangle up in him like this. Their legs twisted together. Her head resting on his massive bicep. She loves how slow and tender it’s become between them over the years.

But there are days when she gets restless. Antsy. Live wires beneath her skin. She can’t put her finger on what it is exactly, but it’s like she wants more more more and this, the cuddling with the sunlight and the breeze, isn’t enough. Her heart beats steady and yet she still feels like it’s hammering right out of her chest.

“Ben,” she murmurs, before licking a long stripe up his jugular. He trembles slightly, his eyes fluttering open to look down at her. She watches as his pupils expand.

She works a hand down to find its way between them, and she cups his groin gently. She feels him twitch, feels him begin to harden slightly.

“I love that I can still do that to you,” Rey whispers with a slight smile. “After all this time.”

“What about what I do to you?” Ben asks.

She can’t deny it. She’s strong, but he’s an absolute brick house. He easily readjusts their bodies, picking her up and throwing her on her back, crawling over her, kissing his way over the pajama fabric covering her sternum. She arches into his lips.

As she does so, completely unbidden, a joking, playful comment escapes her lips. Possibly Freudian, possibly just a joke regarding the holiday.

“Oh, daddy,” she croons with a little smile, her eyes closing as he sucks a sensitive spot below her collarbone. His hands span across her lower back, warm and sturdy, holding her still.

When she says it, he pauses. He pulls away, and crowds over her, leaning over her to meet her eyes.

“Did you –” he starts to ask.

She flushes. “I don’t – I just –” she smiles nervously, “I thought it was fun  – I don’t know, if you – if you want –” she stammers and stumbles, feeling like a teenager all over again. They don’t usually struggle with communication in the bedroom. This is a bit new to her.

“No, I mean –” He stammers as well, and encircles one of her wrists with a firm hand to pull it down to his dick, which is rock hard now.

She gulps.

“So we, maybe we can –” she whispers. They communicate in half sentences sometimes, their intentions always clear. She thinks of him as a well-worn, well-loved book she keeps with her, close to her. She knows every tear in every page. Every watermark and stain. The precise creases in the spine. She knows how to read him, how to open and get to exactly the page she wants.

She knows it’s the same for him as well.

He nods hungrily, his eyes wide as he rakes his gaze over her body, her clothes rumpled on her lithe frame. She feels like a buffet. She doesn’t mind one bit.

* * *

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he tells the inside of her upper thigh. His plush lips suck a red spot into the soft, delicate skin there. She squirms, fisting her hands into the linen bedding.

She’s silently hoping he’ll pull off her pajama shorts, maybe her underwear. Instead, he crawls back up her torso and roughly shoves her silky, strappy top up under her arms, baring a lacy bralette.

He closes his mouth over a nipple through the fabric of the bralette, and she feels her toes point and curl.

There’s still a vague mental block, but something deep within her urges her, urges her to moan it: “Daddy, daddy please,” she keens as he pinches the nipple he isn’t sucking at. As she says it, there’s a rush of warmth that fills her abdomen, she feels herself slicken, and she decides she just wants to fucking go with it.

He hums, lifting his mouth from the fabric covering her breasts. “What was that, baby girl?”

He dips his head down and licks the area above her belly button.

She stays silent as he moves up and kisses the last remnants of chocolate from her mouth and chin. She’s deliriously excited with this new development. New, new, new, her body chants. That antsy, restless sensation in her limbs is abating, replaced with heat and arousal and desperation.

“Tell me,” he growls, lifting her slightly, his hands gripping her, shifting her slightly so that he can smack his palms down on her slightly exposed ass. His hands hit her through the fabric of her shorts, but she still yelps all the same.

“Daddy!”

Rey feels herself flush. She knows her cheeks are red, she knows there’s a slight redness and warmth extending down far past her neck and onto her chest. She also knows that this flush of hers always drives him crazy. He likes seeing how affected she is. And she’s always more than willing to put on a little bit of a show.

“That’s right, but tell me, darling,” he croons as he leans down and presses his lips to her ear, “tell me what you want from daddy.”

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Touch me, touch me.”

He places his hands gingerly on either side of her waist. “I am touching you.”

She shakes her head at him, whipping it dramatically back and forth. “No.”

He takes this opportunity to shove the rest of her top and bralette up, leaving the fabric looped around her elbows. It slightly restricts her movement, but nothing she couldn’t easily break free of if she tried.

He brings his hands up, pressing slightly into the soft swell of her breast. She moves into the touch as he uses his fingers to pinch her dusky, hardened nipples. She cries out.

“Please, please,” she begs.

They both know what she wants. But this is part of the game, the game they both understand they’re playing now. They’ve always enjoyed a little cat and mouse. She likes it when that carrot dangles just slightly out of reach.

He plays with her nipples a bit, and she scrunched her eyes up as pleasure thrums through the movements. She knows, when her pajama shorts finally do make their way to the floor, he’ll be able to see the very visible, very wet silky fabric clinging to her cunt.

She can’t wait.

She knows not to move her arms, allows the fabric of her top to restrict her slightly, and so she opens her eyes a bit to plead with him. He’s watching her intently. Watching the way her hair is tousled, watching the way her fingers have grabbed a bit of pillowcase.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. “Always so good for me, so good for daddy.”

She’s going to have a goddamn heart attack, either from arousal or from the sheer embarrassment that this is what gets her going now. The sheer depravity of it.

His fingers gently hook into the waistband of her pajama bottoms.

He motions at her with his head. “Lift,” he orders.

She lifts her legs straight in the air, resting them gently against his chest and torso, and he begins to pull her shorts up and off her. Tantalizingly slow.

He tosses the garment over his shoulder, onto the floor, where it belongs.

“What have we here?” he asks, looking down at her underwear. Her thighs have drifted slightly apart, her legs still resting up against his chest, and he has an unobscured view of her very visible, very damp arousal.

He brings a hand down to gently rest against her, his fingers tracing the wet fabric, not quite giving her enough friction or pressure.

“Ben,” she gets a bit stern, out of character, frowns up at him.

He very deftly, very strategically, drifts his fingers down and around and he hasn’t removed her panties, but he has shoved them to the side and then he’s inside her. One finger at first, slipping into the warm, velvety heat of her. When he realizes she’s soaked and slicked, he adds another.

She watches as he watches the way her face scrunches up. The way she arches her breasts up. The way she keeps her arms as still as possible, restricted by her pajama top.

“Fuck,” she whispers. She lets her legs fall open then, drifting down from his chest and apart, so that he can shift forward slightly and kneel between her thighs.

“Daddy’s going to take such good care of you,” he tells her, and he’s never let her down. He curls his fingers up, rocking the pads of them against that spot inside of her that makes her sees stars.

“Daddy,” she whispers, and she finally shrugs her top up and off her elbows, freeing her arms. She beckons to him with a finger, and he leans down over her so that she can whisper in his ear. “Daddy,” she murmurs, “I want you to stuff me so full of your cock I can’t ride a bicycle for a whole week.”

“A whole week?” he muses, pressing a quick kiss to her jawline as he continues to gently rock his fingers inside of her pussy. “I think we can do much better than that.”

She nods. At this point, it’s glaringly obvious that he’s still wearing a white cotton shirt and a pair of pants. He takes a moment, withdrawing his fingers from her with a slight wet sound. He lifts his shirt up and off and god she will never tire of this view. This view of him above her, between her legs, the expanse of skin she would spend an entire weekend licking if she could. His broad chest, his visible pectorals.

He clumsily takes off his sweatpants and returns to her, before shifting his eyes around the bed as if he’s sizing up the situation.

She greedily eyes his dick, red and flushed and tilting slightly to the side. On another day, she might offer to go down on him, suck his brains and soul out through his cock, but today is not that day.

She sees an idea flash across his face. His eyebrows raise slightly, and he looks back down at her, getting back into character.

“Would you like to sit on daddy’s lap?” he asks her.

She nods furiously. “Yes, yes, please, fuck, fuck me –” she tries to slip her own fingers down into her pussy, she’s desperate and aching, but he grabs her wrists. She acquiesces.

He bends down a bit to lift her up, up around his waist, her legs encircling his thick torso as he maneuvers them around to the headboard. Rey wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. He leans there, legs slightly outstretched, and she balances around his waist.

If she didn’t still have her panties on, she could shift her weight down, get his cock inside her.

As if he reads her mind, Ben gets a hand between her legs, pulls her undies to the side, and attempts to press his dick into her.

The angle is slightly off, and she giggles a bit before squirming a bit. She feels the fat head of him catch in the entrance of her cunt, and she whines.

Ben’s hands move up to her waist and he pulls her down, down onto him. Her jaw goes slack and she makes happy little whimpering sounds.

“Do you like getting stuffed full of daddy’s cock? Your pussy is so tight, every time,” he trails off. She likes watching the way his eyes glaze over a bit when he’s inside her.

“Daddy you’re so big, oh god, you’re so big, I love it,” she says as she rests her head on his shoulder and tries not to squirm or impale herself on his dick. The slow movement is tortuous and delicious.

Finally, Rey settles completely, his cock stretching her wide, the ache gone and replaced with gratifying fullness.

“I love you,” he whispers into her hair, slightly breaking character, and he strokes the back of her head. She nips his shoulder in response.

They move slowly together, her panties pulled to the side and providing a nice bit of silky friction. She lifts herself up and down, relishing the feel of wet flesh against wet flesh, of his rigid dick filling her, as it slides against the inner walls of her hungry cunt.

When he sees her head loll back, the languid pace causing something deep and hot to coil in her belly, he brings his fingers down to her clit and rubs in steady circles, the way he knows she likes.

Her orgasm is warm, spreading deep down into her toes. It’s the type of orgasm that comes from practice, and tenderness, and love. The type you can’t get from rough and fast. She feels it in her damn elbows and fingers, it spreads like sweet molasses throughout her and lingers long after it’s ended.

Rey feels his dick positively pulse within her as he follows not long after, his come filling her, hot and wet.

Ben throws her down, backward onto the bed, and kneels between her knees, pulling her underwear all the way down and off. She’s sated and pliant and relaxed now. She lets her legs open wide as he kisses his way up towards her red, puffy, sopping wet cunt. She grins lazily down at him as he meets her gaze and begins to lick his come clean of her pussy. She’s sensitive, and isn’t sure she’ll finish again, but watches in appreciation as his lips get red and wet from his ministrations.

When he’s satisfied, he crawls his way back up to her and presses a peck to her lips.

“Happy Father’s day,” he tells her, and they begin to laugh, rolling around together for a moment, before settling back into a position where they’re tangled together, cuddling. They fall asleep and wake hours later, when the sun has begun to hang low in the sky.


End file.
